


chain, keep us together (running in the shadow)

by toffeelemon



Category: Handsome Devil (2016)
Genre: Getting Together, Jealousy, M/M, Post-Canon, fight and make up, oblivious stupid bois
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22200364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toffeelemon/pseuds/toffeelemon
Summary: "Why does Conor get to be adored, but not me?"Post coming out, Conor Masters becomes the go to for gay hookups and sexuality experiments. Ned is jealous and whiny as usual, until he realises who exactly is he jealous of.
Relationships: Conor Masters/Ned Roche
Comments: 15
Kudos: 200





	chain, keep us together (running in the shadow)

**Author's Note:**

> so out of character and tenses are non existent i am sorry
> 
> the chain by fleetwood mac always sLapS

The first time, Ned finds them outside the library’s fire exit, one of those nooks and crannies between buildings that people don’t really know about unless you go looking for them (Ned does). It gets dark early now in November, so no one could really see the two figures huddled in the corner, not unless you were looking. Ned was out for a walk – okay, he was looking for Conor, who disappeared to the library ages ago for one book but it has been an hour and he isn’t back. So Ned _was_ looking. And he did technically find Conor somewhere near the library.

Except Conor was _with_ someone else. A blond little guy was crowding into Conor, Ned doesn’t know him but he hazards a guess and it could be a fourth year, and they were snogging. Conor was backed into the concrete wall, one hand gripping onto the smooth wall uselessly whilst the other still has the book hanging loosely in his grip. The pretty little blond boy was aggressive, his entire front leaning into Conor and two hands fisted into the front of Conor’s jumper.

Ned couldn’t look for any longer. He glances around, out of pure survival instinct. At least no one else was around. Just like the last time he stumbled into something that he shouldn’t have seen, Ned turned away and ran quickly, returning to the dorm as if he hadn’t left at all.

Ned wasn’t going to bring it up. It’s bloody awkward is what it is, innit, sights like that weren’t there to see before Conor arrived. (It certainly never happened to Ned himself). But then Ned remembers, and he figures it’s better that Conor knows what he knows, that Ned isn’t plotting against him somehow. Someone had to warn Conor anyway. If he were lucky, only Ned saw – but Ned should probably let him know that he could be seen messing around with some fourth year. (Are they together?) It’s probably polite camaraderie of Ned, seeing how they’re pals and the only two out gays in Wood Hill, they should look out for each other. (Well, technically Ned was never out, but no one ever cared about what he had to say for himself anyway. And to be fair Ned never denied when accused, so yeah he was basically out.)

Conor lies through his teeth when he finally returned to their room, and Ned decides that he had to intervene. He thinks he could see exactly where Conor’s jumper had been yanked.

“I went looking for you earlier,” Ned says in feigned casualness.

“Yeah?” Conor’s voice had an edge in it. That’s the thing with Conor Masters, you could never tell is he trying to threaten you or just feeling threatened. Ned isn’t scared; he’s just trying to be helpful. Conor would never hurt him anyway.

“Just a word of warning, you need to be more discreet if you don’t want other people to see you and your... boyfriend,” Ned tumbles over that word. Maybe he’s just a tad bit jealous, although he still could hardly picture himself with an actual boyfriend. At Wood Hill College as well, for that matter. Ned decides that okay, maybe he was a bit jealous. He’s been called gay for as long as he’s been in this school and Conor has only been out for like two weeks and already getting more action than he had his entire life.

“Unless you wanted people to see?” Ned added sheepishly, remembering that Connor is tired of hiding. Which Ned totally respects (and is maybe again slightly jealous of). Conor has big enough fists to take care of both of _them_. Not just Ned that he’s looking after now, Ned reminds himself.

“No! No, not boyfriend,” Conor stammered in panic, and Ned’s curiosity peaks. It hadn’t crossed his mind, that there would be interested parties approaching Conor Masters, now that everyone knows he’s available. He’s the talk of the town, after all. Ned knew that there had to be others in the school, it’s just that they never seek each other out, not before Ned and Conor found each other by accident, anyway. Ned had a sneaking suspicion that it was on purpose on Walter’s part, but he couldn’t fathom what devil would’ve possessed a teacher to put two gay boys in the same room, so he was probably wrong. Well, it seems that Conor is doing just fine post coming out then.

“Right. Who was it then?” Ned asks out of curiosity, slightly teasing, just all around amicable. Conor still looked unbelievably tense with his jaw locked, but he shrugs, trying to humour Ned (and mostly hide the anxiety. Conor is done with the anxiety now; it was sucking too much energy out of him). Ned is just asking for the sake of asking, there’s no malice behind it.

“I don’t actually know. He just kind of jumped me, to be honest. Didn’t see it coming,” Conor shrugs again. He’s terrible with words, unlike Ned. Ned chuckles in disbelief, actually entertained.

“Well, it seemed like you enjoyed yourself,” Ned says as he turned away from Conor, trying to hide his blush. It’s okay to be different, Ned reminded himself, they’re trying to normalize it. Nothing wrong with a couple of dudes talking about dudes. It’s _normal_. Ned wishes his heart would stop skipping and his face would stop heating up.

“Ned. No one can know, you know that right? That lad – I don’t think he would appreciate it either,” Conor is suddenly somber and stern, and Ned whips his head back around in earnest.

“Yeah, of course, yeah. I would never – you know I wouldn’t dare, Conor,” Ned pleas, cringing at the not so old memory of him betraying Conor in front of the entire school. It was so, so terrible. And Ned knows that Conor would keep secrets for him in a heartbeat too – it’s only fair that Ned keeps up to his end of the promise. Conor lets out a visible sigh.

“Thank you.” Conor gives him a small smile, and Ned grimaces back (he wasn’t going for a grimace, but it turned out one anyway). Ned is going to be a good friend. This is real queer solidarity – and he’s done his job. To warn Conor that he could get seen, which is probably not what he wanted.

“Mate, you got jumped by a fourth year!” Ned huffs out hysterically, after the lights have been turned off and they’re both in bed. Conor finally found the humour in the situation too, laughing quietly in his bed.

“I know, I know,” Conor’s laugh is soft and low. “Goodnight, Ned.”

Ned is not exactly the most benevolent character around, he knows that much himself. And he also knows that he gets jealous easily. It was mostly Mr. Sherry who made him realize, actually. After winning the national essay contest, they were going to publish Ned’s essay into a book of student works, so Mr. Sherry was helping him edit it. He was really quite the poet, Mr Sherry, he analyzed Ned’s writing as if it were real English, real writing, talking about metaphors and figures of speech that Ned didn’t even know he peppered in himself. Mr Sherry was going to change the title, Handsome Devil, even though Ned loves it. He was only allowed to keep it if he was consistent with the rock references, and it had to be a “plot device”. Ned has never hated his alternative pretentious arse more before.

“It’s quite clever though, Handsome Devil,” Mr Sherry rattles on, as Ned scribbles and crosses out words on his third draft. “Calling your friend a handsome devil because you’re frustratingly bitter, jealous that he’s accepted and adored – and perhaps rightfully so, whilst you feel ostracized.”

Ned did not consciously know that he was jealous of Conor – even though he literally wrote the line, _Why does Conor get to be adored, but me bullied, when we’re essentially the same_ – so now he knows, thanks to Mr Sherry’s literary review.

Ned accepts that he was fully jealous of the difference between his and Conor’s queer experience, the next time he caught Conor in action. He’s pissed, actually, it was in broad daylight and they were in the fucking changing rooms. (However did Ned find his way into a changing room, he would never admit. It was a Saturday and he was bored, eventually going to look for Conor because he was missing for too long from rugby tryouts.) Of course, this wasn’t only the second encounter, it was only the second one that Ned had the misfortune to witness. Conor was friendly enough to share more about his scandalous encounters as an out gay boy, because eventually keeping secrets was too hard and Ned was the perfect one to spill them to. Most of them sound awful anyway, just boys who didn’t even know Conor at all looking for a thrill and a sexuality experiment. And Ned really appreciates the unique, everything goes close friendship that they have, he loves the fact that there’s absolutely zero judgment in the safety of their room – but he doesn’t appreciate it so much anymore when Conor is getting a lap full of a younger rugby hopeful whilst Ned is left behind, still being teased, mostly friendless, sexually frustrated and utterly unloved.

There’s a fucking boy straddling Conor’s lap where he sits at the bench, both of them still in their kits. It’s one of the new boys who tried out this morning – a Chinese boy who’s small but sturdy, and has bushy eyebrows and long eyelashes. (Long story short, he’s pretty, Ned wouldn’t have minded himself.) Conor’s hands were loosely holding his waist and his eyes were closed as the boy enthusiastically sucks a hickey at the base of Conor’s neck.

Ned didn’t mean to be sadistic but he couldn’t help but feel weirdly pleased and avenged when the boy dashes out, beyond embarrassed, once he heard Ned clear his throat at the doorway. Conor manages to blush too when he finally gathered himself from the daze. He wordlessly goes back to changing out of his kit, and Ned is still fuming too hard to remember to look. (He sometimes looks, never when Conor could tell though.)

“Mate,” Ned drawled in annoyance, once he’s established that he won’t lash out with the real reason behind his anger. He’s just an overbearing friend looking out of Conor, and not feeling competitive as the longer-reigning resident queer of Wood Hill. Definitely not jealous at all. Conor looks slightly apologetic, sheepish as if he really is just as innocent as he always argues himself to be.

“ _He_ found me here! He started it, he was just going on and on about how much he admired me and...” Conor stops there embarrassed of the self-praise. Ned knows what’s coming, he’s already rolling his eyes in anticipation; Conor got jumped again, because of course he does. Ned supposes he isn’t lying – he only knew to come here because he knows that Conor only gets dressed here now, the old changing room further away from the pitches, because he doesn’t want the team to get weirded out by him. Slightly over the top and counterproductive if you asked Ned, but he doesn’t play so how would he know right. Whatever makes Conor happy.

So they always jump Conor. It still didn’t mean that Conor had to just sit here, look pretty and take it all the damn time. Conor isn’t exactly innocent either.

“You said you won’t slut shame me,” Conor said quietly, when Ned does nothing but glare at the ground the entire walk back to their room. Ned did say that, after their entire chat about Conor’s streak of being a hoe in gay clubs. But seeing it first hand was a bit too much. He already knows that Conor has kissed more guys than he could count, has done more than that with a handful too. He already knows that Conor is more hot and talented than him, more desirable than Ned would ever be.

Ned just wants yell at Conor to stop being a whore, even though he knows Conor doesn’t mean to be, because Conor never has to try, whereas Ned always had to try so damn hard, and still fail at basically everything. First it was hiding the fact that he was gay, and now it was actually getting guys. Conor just gets to have it without trying, and Ned is really mad. If he sees Conor getting off with another guy one more time, he might actually punch something. (Ned would never rat him out though, or anyone that Conor was with, for that matter – he would never stoop so low again. That’s another thing that Ned is angry about. How Conor Masters made him have morals now, what a tragedy.)

Ned finally had his final straw when he walks into their dorm room one evening to find no other than the fucking rugby captain Victor Hines rolling around in bed with Conor.

Conor jumps this time, but Victor has the audacity to look calmer than he should be, slowly scooting away from Conor once he sat up. Ned at least had the decency to slam the door behind him. He should’ve just stormed out of the room, but instead Ned stands frozen with his back stuck to the wall, watching the blood drain out of Conor’s face (and chest too, with the amount of buttons undone Ned could clearly tell), and Victor watching Ned carefully with his jaw locked. The three of them were trapped in a staring battle – Conor with his eyes wide caught in headlights, Victor emotionless and calculating, Ned’s not sure what face he’s pulling right now, but he knows that he’s in shock, and also unbelievably angry.

Victor is probably figuring out damage control right now, from what little Ned knows about him as a stereotypical natural leader. Ned knows he’s probably any closeted rugby player’s worst nightmare, but he isn’t going to rat Victor out. They have nothing to worry about, and it’s not like they couldn’t threaten Ned into silence with the sheer manpower they have. Two to one, rugby players to one skinny twat. Ned likes Victor enough – he’s nice, nice enough to never have personally pestered Ned, and most of the time was the one to pull Weasel away from Ned, actually. Ned would’ve liked it if he said something about all the bullying as captain too, but in light of recent context Ned is more understanding now. Conor hardly stood up for him all the time either; they’re all queer here and know a thing or two about self preservation. Ned shouldn’t even be that mad, really: at least they were in the privacy of Conor (and Ned’s, ugh) room, and if Ned had to pick a boyfriend for Conor, Victor was a pretty good match. He should be happy for Conor as a friend – Victor’s pretty fit, he’s popular and not exactly an arse, and they probably get each other because they already play together. But somehow Ned’s jealousy is still burning through his stomach, and he thinks he’s going to be sick.

“Right,” eventually Victor was the one to break the silence. He clears his throat awkwardly, scooting off the bed and grabbing his askew jacket on the way out. Conor is still sitting on his bed, dumbfounded. Ned makes way for Victor to get out from the door, because what else he’s going to do, and he hates it when Victor grips his shoulder lightly in an assuring and/or threatening manner. Victor’s eyes were steely as they met Ned’s.

“Ned,” he nods once, and Ned nods back firmly, and unspoken promise exchanged. He is still positively furious, he’s so gonna have a word with Conor right after about this, but no, he isn’t going to grab a microphone and tell anyone that the rugby captain kissed the star out half anytime soon. The door clicks close again, and Ned storms over to tower over Conor in a split second.

“I’m fucking done with you, you know that?” Ned’s voice annoyingly cracks in the middle of his sentence. Conor still isn’t looking at him, his bowed in shame. Conor is glad that it was Ned who caught them, but of course he rather Ned didn’t. He knew that Ned would be angry with him, because Ned always would, but Conor’s getting pissed himself too. He’s starting to forget why Ned is always so pissed about Conor getting some; he’s done with being shamed by even Ned himself, who was supposed to be on his side.

It’s not even about Victor – Conor knew deep down that it’s a downright stupid idea to keep fooling around with Victor. They’re teammates, and almost kind of mates, it’s dangerous and Conor doesn’t even feel for Victor like that, he hardly does for anyone. He knows for a fact that Victor doesn’t feel for him like that too. It’s not even about Victor, Conor just wants to know why is Ned so goddamn annoyed about him snogging another boy.

“No, I actually don’t. What’s your problem?” Conor grumbles, sitting up to meet Ned’s gaze. Ned’s face is beet red.

“My problem?” Ned scoffs, running a hand through his hair wildly. “Can you just leave me alone for once? Yeah, you have a boyfriend, good for you. No need to shove it in my face all the bloody time!”

Ned undoubtedly sounds jealous now. He doesn’t care; he just needs to vent, get it out before it suffocates him from the inside out. He’s tired of seeing Conor reminding him of what he can’t have all the time. It actually burns his eyes to see it.

“Not! My boyfriend!” Conor argues back, adamant that Ned understands this, out of all the unsolved grudges that Ned is holding against him right now. Conor wants to tell him that Victor understands him, trusts him when no one else on the team would. That Victor actually looks him in the eye when they speak, and they chat after practice, like real friends do. That it’s just been so easy with Victor, how he knows exactly what Victor wants and that he’s just a self assured bisexual who’s looking for a bit of distraction before uni. That Conor really enjoys having someone who actually knows him as a person and still somehow wants him, at least physically if not romantically, instead of the people who never cared to get to know Conor, and just wants to use him. Conor likes having Victor because it’s easy and Ned is being so damn difficult right now. Ned can’t even let him relish in probably the only healthy attraction that he has ever gotten before. Conor’s really mad. Ned isn’t supposed to be the one to stop him from having the things he deserves.

“Why do you care anyway? Why does it bother you so much?” Conor pushes on, his own anger bubbling in his chest now, as Ned chews over the fact that Victor isn’t his boyfriend. That’s another thing, Ned always had to jump to the direst possibilities, he’s so dramatic. Conor could spend time with another boy without being _in love_ with them, for fuck’s sake.

“Does me being gay bother you?” Conor blurts out dumbly, suddenly hit with realization that Ned has never actually clarified that he _is_ gay, Conor just assumed like everyone else. Ned has been acting very much like a homophobe lately, Conor realizes with sudden horror. Seeing Conor close to any boy made him lash out, and Ned could never really explain himself. Now he’s annoyed at a whole new level – Conor can’t believe he had bared his soul to Ned like this, just to be betrayed in the end. Again. He misses not having friends and not having to have squabbles like this.

“What?! NO! I _am_ gay, Conor!” Ned screams, absolutely appalled by the accusation. Ned lost his train of thought entirely. Conor clearly hadn’t the slightest idea, and Ned doesn’t know whether should he be grateful or not. It is quite embarrassing to admit that he’s jealous that Conor gets to kiss all these guys and he doesn’t, but it doesn’t stop Ned from wanting to yell at Conor for no particular reason. No one told him that having a friend would hurt so much. Maybe Ned is just destined to be a loner. Add friendship to the list of things that he doesn’t deserve, just like boys chasing after him.

“Ned, what do you want?” Conor sighs, asking tiredly. He hates Ned (he doesn’t really); Ned is way too complicated and difficult for his rugby player brain of five whole brain cells. Conor has no clue why is Ned always giving him a hard time just for being who he is, if it were Victor there would’ve been a whole lot less arguing and a lot more making out. Although it makes Conor bored after a while, it’s so much nicer than this. Tearing his and his best friend’s friendship apart with their own hands.

Oh, Ned knows exactly what he wants, and he is going to spell it out for Conor, all right. He wants Conor to stop hoeing around. He wants Conor to stop letting every boy’s hands on him, every boy’s lips in his. He wants to stop feeling lonely and unloved and not good enough, unlike Conor. He wants Conor to stop kissing boys right in front of him; he doesn’t want to see it. He wants Conor to stop telling him about all the guys trying to pull him, because it puts a knot in Ned’s stomach and makes him want to throw up. He wants Conor to definitely _not_ get off with one of his other friends, because Ned feels offended, since he’s supposed to be Conor’s _best_ friend and he’s right here and –

 _Oh fuck_ , Ned is jealous all right, but not jealous of Conor.

Still fuelled with his jealousy, and his head filled with the thought of _how dare he gets off with another friend when I’m right here_ , Ned reaches out with both hands and grabs Conor’s face towards him, before pulling Conor into a bruising kiss. Conor gasps in shock at first, but soon enough he’s pulling Ned down into him, grabbing his sides until his knees fall into bed and Ned is practically in his lap.

Ned now knows why does everyone find Conor Masters so damn irresistible. This is truly a place to be. Ned thinks about all the guys who had been held by Conor before, and he’s determined to make sure there won’t be any more. Ned finally gets to have this for once – now he finally understands the pure euphoria the rugby team felt when they finally won the senior cup. As advertised, Conor sits under him pliantly and lets Ned kiss him and hold him close and breath him in. Ned wants it all. _Mine now_ , Ned thinks, _no more other stupid boys._ _Conor Masters is his_.

And Ned is also Conor’s, he’ll never leave Conor’s lap if he’s never told to. Conor’s hands are big and warm as they slide down Ned’s sides and pull him closer at the hip. Someone wants Ned, he rejoices as he nibbles at Conor’s lower lip and gets a satisfying shiver in response. _Conor_ wants Ned, who cares about whether anybody else has eyes for Ned. Conor’s eyes are finally on Ned and not someone else now. Ned wants to keep it that way, forever.

This is so much better than fighting, Conor sighs as Ned kisses him until his jaw hurts. If Conor knew that Ned would stop being angry just like this, Conor would’ve kissed him a long time ago. Conor is just too used to having someone actively trying to get him – Ned Roche has always been more difficult than the others. They finally got here though, and it’s so worth it. Conor just wanted someone to like him for who he is, and want him for who he is. He’ll happily never fool around with anyone other than Ned ever again, if Ned would stay here in his arms and not be upset, like he is right now. Ned is just the one he was looking for.

When they finally pull apart for air, Conor is panting, and Ned couldn’t help but smirk at the light mark he left at the underside of his jaw. _His, now_. Conor’s hands rub up and down Ned’s thighs distractedly, and Ned melts under the touch, drowning in the fact that someone finally wants him. _Conor_ wants him. Perfect, pretty, stupid Conor. He was definitely justified in being jealous of everyone else who get to have Conor’s attention.

“Oh right,” Ned chuckles belatedly, huffing against Conor’s chest. “I want you.”

Conor’s laugh is even lovelier when you can feel it vibrating through his entire body.

“Alright. You have me, Ned. I’m right here.” 

**Author's Note:**

> really my other handsome devil fic is so much better, go check it out x


End file.
